


Ribbons in her hair

by BadassIndustries



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Absolutely No Homophobia, Asexual Character, F/F, Featuring Berrypicking, Fluff, No canon events or characters will appear, Pastoral Romance, Sweet Sapphic Romance, The Shire, and a lot of food talk, it's just a cute romance set in the Shire, no bad things happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadassIndustries/pseuds/BadassIndustries
Summary: A Sapphic Pastoral Hobbit RomanceOr, Galinda Babblebrooks sees a pretty girl and starts yearning
Relationships: Galinda Babblebrooks/Mira Steadwater
Comments: 18
Kudos: 26





	1. The Sweet Taste of Blackberries

**Author's Note:**

> I thought we all needed some fluff right about now, so here's some hobbit lasses falling in love.
> 
> Enjoy!

Galinda Babblebrooks was a hobbit of uncommon stature. She was properly round of course, as all hobbits ought to be, but her pleasing roundness was coupled with a striking tallness. She was tall enough that some folk suspected unshire-like ancestry upon first meeting her. She stood quite a head taller than both of her parents, but she was otherwise the spitting image of them. And since everybody knew her family had lived in Woodhall as long as anyone cared to remember, her height was chalked up to a quirk of fate. Aside from her unusual grandeur, she was a fine example of hobbityouth and all smiled to see her walk her wares to market. Galinda liked the walk to market,which was a good thing since both market days and deliveries were going to be her unique responsibility for the foreseeable future. Her sister Sara had lately been married to a young woodworker and their parents had decided that now all the celebrations were over they had had quite enough of business and company. They had gone to visit Great-Aunt Sam, who lived all the way on the other side of the Shire, for some peace and quiet.

Such a long journey wasn't to be made for just a fortnight, so they determined to stay at least the summer and possibly the autumn too, if Aunt Sam would have them. The old lady, fond of company and fonder of gossip, had replied with a letter that was half delight, half prospective menus for her guests. Galinda did not expect her parents back for quite a while.

And so the weight of business fell on Galinda’s capable shoulders, an arrangement that suited everyone very well. Galinda had been a year of age already and was wild for more freedom and responsibility. The first few days she had delighted in the solitude, eating meals precisely when she wished them and leaving dishes waiting until it suited her to wash and dry them. After three such delightful days, she turned her mind to her duties, and to the pursuit of some company, ventures that were easily combined.

Her business required her to walk to the Steadwater farm, a good hours walk even for Galinda’s long gait. The Steadwaters had ordered a half dozen of small longhandled baskets, made more for picturesque fancy than pure functioning. The Steadwaters were primarily berry farmers and Mrs Steadwater had hit upon the brilliant idea that, if given a pretty basket and the choice of the berries, discerning hobbitfolk might like to do their own berry picking. This served the dual purpose of lessening the labour for Mrs Steadwater and giving opportunities to those folk who liked their berries overripe. The Steadwaters made good business, being known over several hills in particular for their delicious strawberries. Galinda was incredibly fond of strawberries and hoped to bring some back to have for dessert.

She drew her finely spun wool cloak about her, tied the pretty baskets to her sash and set off. When she reached the first field belonging to the Steadwaters, she was surprised to see a small crowd gathered. From her vantage point atop the hill Galinda could see that the crowd was composed of mainly tweens and other youths who could hardly have gained their majority. They were all crowded around Luca Steadwater, the oldest Steadwater child. He was mostly ignoring the crowd and continuing with his labour. Galinda knew Luca had this year been allowed to rule over a plot of land, to stray from berries and to try his hand at growing heartier stuff. If Galinda was any judge, his first harvest of potatoes would be excellent. The crowd seemed to think the same, applauding every time he unearthed another potato. Digging up root vegetables was hard work, and Luca had shed his coat and vest, working in only his rolled up shirtsleeves. As she walked down the hill, Galinda saw Luca pause and speak something to the crowd, leaning elegantly on his spade. With a smile he handed a potato to a hobbitlass who shined as brightly as if it had been a truffle. Having reached the bottom of the hill and finding the path blocked by Luca’s audience, Galinda tapped the nearest hobbit on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, what’s all this excitement for?” The lass turned around in a whirl of pretty curls.

“Oh, don’t you know? Nowadays there’s a fashion for recipes using only the freshest of potatoes. Nothing will do among us young folk but to have our taters right fresh from the ground, from precisely this field.”

She said it with such a twinkle in her eyes that Galinda got the feeling this lass didn’t care for potatoes any more than Galinda did. Which was still a great deal of course, since there was nothing better than potatoes in gravy, or a good leek and potato pie, but not enough to walk the fields to get them here instead of waiting a while to get them at market where she could get her carrots and apples just as easily. Especially since letting them lie a bit made them ever so suitable for frying up nicely. The pretty lass had turned around again and sighed admiringly as Luca picked up his spade again. With her uncommon height, Galinda could see pretty well over the crowd, only one or two fanciful hats blocking her view. Next to Luca stood a hobbitlass in a plain green dress and brown apron. For every potato Luca bestowed on his happy audience, this lass received a few coins she carefully tucked in the purse tied to her apron string. It looked to be quite heavy already. There was something interesting about her. Unlike most of the crowd, she didn’t seem particularly happy to be here. She also wasn’t looking at Luca, but rather staring with piercing eyes at the crowd, inspecting all assembled with eagle eyes. Galinda took a few steps closer. It almost seemed as if the lass was keeping the crowd away from Luca, turning her small stature into a barrier between his smiles and the assembled potato fanciers. Two finely dressed hobbitlads ran off, clutching their potatoes and loudly lamenting their lateness for tea. Their departure left an opening in the crowd so Galinda could see the hobbitlass more clearly. She had gloriously dark ringlets and her green dress wasn’t plain at all, it had a delicate green pattern of leaves embroidered on it. She was the roundest, loveliest creature Galinda had ever seen.

The young gentlehobbits’ loud cries about tea had reminded the others of their own missed mealtimes and the crowd started to disperse. Several young lads and lasses seemed very reluctant to leave the field, but eventually they did with coy waves and bright smiles. As they did, the fierce expression on the guarding lass’ face melted away. But as soon as Galinda stepped forward it sprang back in full force. Her posture stayed tense, even as Luca gave Galinda a cheery wave.

“Hey there, Miss Babblebrooks! If I’d known you were coming I’d have saved some taters for you.”

He gave her a bright, lovely smile. Luca had the pleasantest face this side of the shire, all tan skin, bright smiles and regular, handsome features.

“You are too kind, Master Steadwater, but have no fear, I came here to deliver some baskets, that’s all. And find some strawberries, since I’ve a little cream left over from lunch and I couldn’t imagine a pleasanter dessert than Steadwater berries and cream.”

Luca beamed at her.

“That’s alright then. But call me Luca, I’m sure I’ve told you a thousand times.”

“Likewise,” smiled Galinda back, trying not to stare at the pretty lass who was still glaring at her.

“Well Miss Galinda, you’ll be wanting to deliver those berry baskets promptly to be back in time for dinner, won’t you? Mira, could you bring her to Pa or Ma?”

The pretty lass stepped forward.

“I’m Mira,” she said in a rather pointed manner. “I’m Luca’s sister.”

“You’re a hellion, is what you are,” said Luca, pulling gently on one of the ringlets framing her face. Mira swatted at his hand, with much more gentleness than she had employed speaking to Galinda. Galinda found herself rather intimidated.

“I’d love your company and assistance, Miss Steadwater,” Galinda said, trying for pleasant instead of hopeful, “but I wouldn’t want to put you out, I’m sure I could find your parents myself.”

Galinda tried to put as much goodnature in her words as she could convey. It seemed terribly important that Miss Steadwater saw she needn’t feel so defensive. Galinda and Luca often met up for a chat when it was both their turns to man their respective stalls at market, surely Galinda and Miss Steadwater could likewise be good friends?

“I’ll escort you, Miss Babblebrooks.” Said Miss Steadwater firmly. Galinda found herself bobbing a curtsy, just because of the authority in Miss Steadwater’s voice. She strode away with quick steps, fast enough that Galinda needed to lengthen her gait to keep up. A hobbit of lesser height would have to trot to keep up with Miss Steadwater’s determined pace. Galinda waved at Luca and rushed to catch up with Miss Steadwater, who walked quickly enough the gleaming green ribbon in her hair fluttered in the wind behind her.

Galinda caught up at the stile at the bottom of the field. Miss Steadwater had to slow down in order to climb the steps without entangling her pretty embroidered skirts. Galinda found she dearly wanted Miss Steadwater to slow down a bit so she could properly talk with her.

“I have never come this way before, is it a shortcut known only to the family?” Galinda asked politely. Miss Steadwater stopped and looked back at Galinda suspiciously.

“Luca hasn’t shown you? It is the quickest way to our house.”

“I’m afraid I’ve never had the opportunity. Master Steadwater and I rarely meet outside of market days and then we are generally too busy tending our respective family’s stalls to arrange for social calls. I’ve only visited with my family, before.”

This seemed to be the right answer. Miss Steadwater waited for Galinda to climb the stile.

“So you and Luca are just marketfriends? Do you like him?”

“I like him very much, Miss Steadwater. He has always been very kind to me and my sister,” answered Galinda confusedly.

“He’s very popular, you know,” said Miss Steadwater pointedly. Galinda could not figure out what she was pointing at, however.

“He’s very pleasant company, so that does not surprise me at all,” answered Galinda.

Miss Steadwater stopped and looked up to catch Galinda’s eye.

“You really do not get what I’m getting at at all, do you?”

“Fraid not,” laughed Galinda, relieved.

Miss Steadwater relaxed. She did not smile, but some of that sharpness melted from her face.

“Neither does my brother, Miss Steadwater, and that’s quite enough to get me feeling all anxious the moment another one of those fawning lads or lasses comes to giggle at him.”

They continued the walk to the house, now side by side. On the way, Miss Steadwater checked on the blackberries growing in the hedgerow. When she found a few that were ripe enough, she offered them to Galinda.

Galinda thanked her gratefully. Miss Steadwater waved away her thanks.

“Anything for a true friend to my brother. It is far too often folks come in friendship when they actually mean to court and I’ve had quite enough of it. But I see you are not like that.”

She smiled a pretty smile that dimpled up her round cheeks. Galinda smiled back on instinct, even if she wasn’t quite sure what Miss Steadwater was referring to.

“I hope to be your friend as well, Miss Steadwater,” Galinda assured her. Miss Steadwater’s smile grew.

“If you’re not about to fall in love with my brother, you may call me Mira,” she said, with an arch smile. Galinda was at a loss for words and popped the berries into her mouth to hide it. The blackberries tasted perfect and sweet. Far too soon, the house came in view and with them Mister Steadwater, waving at them cheerily. Galinda did not know what to do but to repeat her thanks to Mira and express her wish that she might meet Mira on the next market day. She never had before, but Mira’s answering smile made her feel hopeful nonetheless.


	2. Sunshine through the trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galinda takes a walk, gets a clue and completely forgets to get blackberries

Weaving and basketmaking had always come easy to Galinda. From the moment her fingers were dextrous enough to weave the willows, she started making small baskets and traps. They were very shoddy to be sure, but a few years of learning the craft on her parents’ lap had made her a master of the craft. No longer did people ask which Babblebrook made which basket, since all were equals in the art.

Her older sister Sara had never had a passion for the work, so their parents had been delighted when she showed a newfound preference for weaving chairseats. They were surprised, but no less delighted, when they found out it was not finely crafted chairs Sara had taken a passion for, but the craftsman who made them. Fenton Clearfield was a fine young lad, a crafter of beautiful chairs and a cook of marvellous jellies. His parents were fine folk and the match was applauded by friends and neighbours alike. Galinda had known Fenton happened to be walking by rather too often for mere coincidence and her sister had taken her into her confidence early enough Galinda had plenty time to get used to the idea.

Sara and Fenton had taken a nice little hobbit hole not too far away, a pretty little dwelling with room enough to grow and garden enough for Sara to grow and sell some flowers. After helping them move in with the cart borrowed from Thomas Proudfoot, Galinda felt she had been quite enough underfoot and decided to allow her sister and her new husband some quiet. So the next morning, instead of turning into the lane that would lead to Sara's brightly painted door, she turned towards the treetops. She didn't like being idle, so she had taken her dropspindle. Bando Sleepfast, the sheepfarmer who lived next-door, let her have all the plucks of wool left behind in hedges and fences to spin fine threads from. Occasionally he gave her a full fleece too, in return for a woven mantle for his mother or some knitted socks for his children. Galinda was not as fine a knitter as her mother and father, but her weaving was excellent. The pleasant thing about her dropspindle was that she could keep her fingers busy as she wandered and ended up with a fine thread and the delight of exploring the fields around her. The weather was fine and her feet restless, so Galinda gave them free rein to roam where they will. She found herself wandering in the same direction she walked a few days ago. It was just that she didn’t often wander this way, so it still had the shine of an adventure.

She had no reason to return to Steadwater farm at all. She would meet Luca at the market in a few days. And Mira too, possibly. And Mrs Steadwater had given her such a generous amount of strawberries she still had some left over, even after her delicious desert last night. But perhaps she ought to go back for some blackberries. Sure, she usually gathered those herself form nearby hedgerows, but she really felt like making a blackberry pie for tea, so visiting would be much more efficient, or else the pie wouldn’t have time to cool before teatime. Decided, she turned away from the path into a lane through the wood that was a shorter path to Steadwater farm. Birdsong sounded merrily among the trees, a calm, tranquil, happy sound Galinda delighted in. She paused a moment to try and identify which bird was chirping so cheerfully. She was never any good at identifying birdsong, not like her mother and Mister Sleepfast, who got into friendly competitions over it, but she did always like to try. This one might have been a robin. Or a thrush, perhaps. The birds around her fell silent before she could be certain. For a moment, all she could hear were footsteps, rapidly approaching. A moment later, Mira Steadwater came in view, running with abandon, her lovely mass of hair streaming behind her. She stopped with a start when she saw she was no longer alone.

“Galinda,” Mira gasped, “whatever are you doing here?”

“I was just walking. And spinning,” Galinda replied quickly, lifting the dropspindle in a completely unnecessary illustration. She felt a little foolish. All of this was very unexpected.

Mira was wearing an interesting costume. Her light blouse was embroidered with a lovely leaf pattern and she was also wearing green breeches. Mira caught her looking and a slight blush rose on her lovely face, already rosy from the exercise.

“I like to go running through the woods,” Mira said defensively.

“Me too!” Galinda rushed to say. Mira wore her breeches charmingly and Galinda would hate for her to mistake Galinda’s admiration for disdain. “Or rather, I like to walk. I, uhm—" Galinda hesitated, “I like your breeches.”

Mira turned her face up to look Galinda in the eye. She sent her a piercing look, but failed to find what she was looking for, because she gave a slight smile and said, “thank you, they’re marvellously comfortable.”

Galinda looked around for a way to prolong the conversation that wouldn’t lead to her asking how soft the fabric of Mira’s breeches were. Mira beat her to it.

“Folks like those baskets you brought us,” she said, a little abruptly, “the fancy folk go wild for them There’s three ladies right now, picking strawberries for their own jam. Walk with me?”

For a moment, Galinda could not comprehend the question, but then she eagerly agreed.

“I’d love to! I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you until market day.” She hadn’t meant to sound so eager. Galinda felt her face heat up. Blushes did not show on her face very much, sunbrown as it was, but she still felt as if Mira could see her every uncertainty painted on her face. She followed Mira silently, keeping her gaze on the ribbon woven through the dark curls. It was a lovely shining blue that shimmered in the sun.

“Miss Steadwater, may I ask you a question?” said Galinda at long length.

“You may, and you may also call me Mira, as I’m sure I told you already,” laughed Mira, looking back over her shoulder at Galinda.

“What exactly were you talking about yesterday? About your brother?”

Mira laughed again. “You truly do not notice, do you? Miss Galinda, I think we are going to be great friends.”

Galinda felt confused and pleased at the same time. “What did I not notice? I know he’s well-liked and it’s truly kind for all his friends to come and buy his first crop of potatoes, but I really don’t understand what you were hinting at.”

Mira stopped walking entirely, to laugh a bright, carefree laugh.

“Those folk yesterday are all violently in love with my brother, who does not realise and will not realise until one of them is actually brave enough to spell it out for him.”

“Is that so? All of them?” asked Galinda concernedly.

“Well, not all of them,” admitted Mira, “but a fair few of them nonetheless. For the others, I think it’s just that it’s awfully fashionable right now, to be in love with Luca. Don’t you think he’s handsome?”

Galinda frowned. Luca certainly had a very pleasant face, but compared to Mira’s bright eyes, his friendly face wasn’t half so pleasing.

Mira smiled brightly at her. “Galinda, you shall be my friend and ally in keeping all these lads and lasses away from my brother. Not yet though, the potato harvest isn’t done yet and it’s making us a marvellous profit.”

The little glint of genius in Mira’s eyes was an exhilarating sight.

“Mira, you do not mean that you’ve been making use of those youths’ infatuation to make a profit?”

Galinda felt she ought to be stern, but felt rather more like giggling along with Mira.

“I definitely have. If those feather headed fools want to pay to make my brother smile, who am I to stop them? And the taters are good, so there’s no harm done there.”

Mira’s curls bounced with her giggles.

“Luca asked me to help him with the sale, I’m just helping extra efficiently.” She wore satisfaction very prettily. “He doesn’t have a head for romance, nor courting neither, and he’s just being friendly. If others think he means anything more than friendship, more fool them I say.”

A shade of that great protective strength Mira showed yesterday shimmered through.

“Just because he doesn’t understand romance, doesn’t mean folk get to expect things or make him uncomfortable. He can’t help it he’s goodlooking, can he?”

Galinda agreed, glad she understood the situation better now. Luca always had many friends at the market, but never any he would buy trinkets or ribbons for. But Luca would share a treat or a story with any of his friends, so Galinda could understand his sister might have to intervene whenever his friendly behaviour raised hopes in optimistic hobbityouth. And if she decided to make a profit while doing so, who could blame her? Galinda thought it was marvellously clever. Even if she thought it was silly. Who would ever sigh over nice Luca Steadwater, when brilliant, exciting Mira was there? For the entirety of their walk, Galinda puzzled over that question, but even when she got home to sit down to tea, she could not find the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fellas, is it gay to compliment another lass' breeches?
> 
> That's as far as I've written this, but I've got plans for marketdays and a meal together anyways. I need comforting fluff in these times, so I'm guessing some of you must too.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. Do you like Mira's get rich quick schemes? Or her breeches?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	3. Market day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's market day and Mira promised to be there...

On marketday, Galinda woke up nice and early to have time for a leisurely first breakfast before she had to walk her wares to the market square. She buttered a nice thick slice of raisin bread which she nibbled while she packed herself a nice little basket of treats for second breakfast. She went to the chicken coop to get some eggs for her breakfast, singing softly so the chickens would know it was her. The three chickens were Galinda’s own, and her little darlings from the moment she got them as little chicks.

Their names were Sweetheart, Honey and Harpy and they were all very aptly named. Harpy used to be called Darling, but even at 28, Galinda did not believe in calling things by the wrong name. Harpy was a vicious protector, who would peck the fingers and toes of anyone she didn’t think deserved to be near _her_ hens. Galinda she tolerated, which meant that Galinda was the only one allowed to gather the eggs. Galinda thanked her hens for their labour, petted Sweetheart and Honey on their soft little heads and went back inside to cook her breakfast.

She found herself singing cheerily while she bent over the stove. She would see Mira again today. And Luca too, of course. Mira had assured her she would accompany her brother to the market. And she had promised to bring Galinda some raspberries, in return for her silence about the matter of her brother. Galinda, who looked forward to Steadwater raspberries all year, thought this was a very fair bribe. Perhaps, if her basket sold well, she would get an extra pound of sugar and make some raspberry jelly. Then she could ask Mira and her brother over for tea, and serve them a nice spongecake filled with cream and jelly. She’d have to make some pie too, or some other savouries to liven up the table. Galinda wondered if Mira liked meringues. Harpy’s egg were small, but Sweetheart laid eggs that were very suited to making meringues. She won’t use them all for lunch, just in case.

Second breakfast packed and first breakfast enjoyed , Galinda readied herself to walk to the market. Sometimes, when they had chairs or large traps to sell, they would use a handcart, but today Galinda had only her own work, all of which she could bind together and carry easily. She specialised in smaller, daintier work, while Sara wove chairseats and her mother wove the sturdier pieces.

Galinda was nearly at the door when she decided she had better put on a fresh apron. And while she got the apron out of the cupboard she decided she might as well put on the pink blouse she’d gotten for Sara’s wedding. And perhaps the embroidered belt she had gotten from Aunt Sam last year. It was the only piece of fine embroidered clothing Galinda owned, so she generally saved it for fairs and parties. But Mira Steadwater wore such lovely embroidered garments. Did she do it herself? Galinda was a fine hand at quilting, but she could never get embroidery to look as it ought. Cheerful crosses or initials on an apron she could manage, but nothing like the delicate leaf pattern on Mira’s green blouse. Galinda put on the blouse, tied on her pockets securely and put her frock back on. The eathren red of the dress matched nicely with the soft pink of the blouse. She rolled up her sleeves, tied on her neat white apron and tilted the mirror from side to side to take in the effect of the whole together. After a glance or two, she decided she would find the ribbon that most closely matched her blouse and weave it through her hair. These changes made and admired, she felt she could safely say she looked quite charming. She could also say she would be late if she did not set off right that moment.

Hurriedly she picked up her bundled wares, tied them to her belt, carried the rest and rushed down the road.

To her relief, she still arrived at the market square in good time. She greeted every familiar face in sight, found her stall, paid her coin for it and started arranging her wares. Her favourite were the miniatures, tiny baskets and chairs sold as toys, but created mostly to illustrate what people could order from them. Custom work was a lot more interesting, after all, as well as more profitable. Wares arranged prettily, she started to look around. Folk were still arriving, handcarts and pony wagons carrying greens and fruits, fish, game and all kinds of sundries. Granny Tenterhook, who sold her daughter’s gorgeous knives in the stall next to Galinda, caught her looking.

“Go on lass, go and look about and find your friends! Young girl like you should be free to gad about and find some fun,” she said, with a knowledgeable smile.

“I’d love to, but it’s just me today,” said Galinda politely, “Ma and Pa are with Aunt Sam – They send their fondest greetings of course—, so I’ve got to mind the stall myself.”

“Nonsense,” said Granny in that self-assured way of hers, “there is not a soul here yet. And if any early birds come by, I can take care of that just as well. Go on, you’re a growing girl, go find some friends to share a nice meal with.”

Galinda thanked her profusely and privately made up her mind that when she made meringues, she would deliver a few to the Tenterhooks hobbithole in thanks.

She picked up her picknick basket of treats and ran off, eager to find some friends. Louisa and Rosie could sometimes be found selling seeds and seedlings with their uncle and they were always good fun to be around. An obstinate donkey blocked half the road, but she slipped past it the other way and caught sight of Luca Steadwater, carrying a crate of sun-ripe strawberries packed in straw. She found Rosie too, staring at Luca from behind her uncle’s cart. Mira really did have the right of it, Galinda thought. Poor Luca. She ran up to him, eager to make the most of her time before the customers came.

“Morning Master Luca, fine morning don’t you think?” she said cheerfully.

Luca smiled brightly at her and carefully put down his strawberries to tip his hat at her. “Morning Miss Galinda. Don’t you look as pretty as pie today.”

Galinda thanked him kindly for the compliment as she tried not to look around her too obviously. Mrs Steadwater was minding the cart, but Mira was nowhere to be seen. Galinda bit back her disappointment and held up her basket to show it to Luca.

“I’m all alone today, so I was wondering if you’d like to share second breakfast with me when you’re done?”

Even if she couldn’t spend the morning with Mira, she could at least spend it in pleasant company.

“What a fine idea, Miss Galinda!” agreed Luca happily, “you just sit yourself down on that bench, we’ll be done soon. Pa baked fresh bread this morning, we’ll have ourselves a fine feast.”

He went to get some more crates and Galinda took a seat on the bench behind their stall. Carefully, she unpacked her basket, making sure she didn’t overturn the stacked crates of berries. First the checkered fabric square keeping everything warm and secure in the basket. Then the lsices or raisin bread, the egg salad, the butter and cheese, the buns and cold meat. Finally the slices of cake, still leftover from the wedding. By the time she had it all laid out, Luca was done carrying and arranging crates. He sat down next to her with a contented sigh. His hair was in disarray and there was straw stuck in his neckerchief.

“Ma’s gone to stable the cart and eat with a few friends.” He looked her in the eye for a moment, eyes twinkling. “And my sister will be here in a moment to eat with us.”

Galinda tried to school her features into pleasant surprise, but she felt she was hardly successful. Luca smiled broadly.

“I thought that was how it was,” laughed Luca, “And don’t you worry, Miss Galinda, I’ll wager it wasn’t for ma or me that Mira was so pleased to go to market today. Never had to turn back because she didn’t have the right ribbon for her hair either!”

Luca looked at Galinda’s flushed face. He smiled kindly at her and started to butter some raisin bread.

“Now,” he said, offering Galinda the first slice, “I’ll wager too that you, like my sweet sister, thought I didn’t notice how you two looked at each other.”

He smiled impishly at her. “Just because I’m not likely to go moon-eyed at a pretty lass you think I can’t recognise the symptoms in my own sister!”

Galinda never knew Luca could look so sharp. Or so uncomfortably knowing.

“When my sister the hellion goes running out in anger and comes back in blushes, I know what happened. Strawberry?”

Stunned, Galinda took the offered strawberry. She had a lot to think about.

“Have you…”

Luca raised an eyebrow at her.

“Have I told Mira I suspect her of having any sort of tender feeling? Heavens no! Every time I make a new friend she plagues me with suspicion and insinuation and I certainly shan’t do the same to her. No thank you. Not if I want to keep my toes.”

Luca bit into his slice of raisin bread with a satisfied grin. He nodded, content to have closed the subject, and started talking of the adventures of his many friends. Apparently the Carter’s son said he could run two hills in ten minutes and then Maria and Fred from the flower stand dared him to do it and he managed but got himself quiet ill in the process. And in front of the very lad he was trying to impress too, poor soul.

“He was also trying to impress you, you know,” came Mira’s voice from behind them. Galinda, who had slowly relaxed under the onslaught of friendly chatter, abruptly felt the tension spring back in her shoulders.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” said Luca, turning towards her. “The lad’s not yet nineteen.” Galinda braced herself and turned to look at Mira too. She was not properly braced. Mira was wearing the sturdy clothes befitting a farmer, but she was just so lovely they might have been silk. A deep blue ribbon was braided through her hair, with a few lovely tight curls escaping it, dangling elegantly over her face. She brushed them away while she argued with her brother.

“You’re what he wants to be when he’s grown, now move over, I’ve got our food.”

Luca made a space for Mira to sit between them. Galinda felt privately this was very traitorous behaviour, considering he knew how she felt.

“And here you haven’t even greeted Miss Galinda yet,” said Luca, pushing Mira in that particular brotherly way. “And Miss Galinda has been so kind as to come and break her second fast with us.”

Galinda caught some kind of warning look from sister to brother, but then Mira turned to her with a smile that made Galinda fell warm all over. “Galinda, I’m so glad you kept your promise to meet me,” Mira said softly, turned entirely towards Galinda and smiling warmly.

“I brought you some blackberry tarts, because Luca said they’re your favourite.” Mira put down her well filled basket and took out a pretty glazed blackberry tart.

Blushing, Galinda took the small tart from her hand. Their fingers brushed and their eyes met. Galinda looked away quickly.

“Do you embroider?” She asked and immediately felt wretched for asking such a question out of nowhere.

“I do actually,” said Mira proudly, putting down her food to pull out a delicately embroidered handkerchief. It had a lovely border of daisies and Galinda felt much more comfortable exclaiming over the neatness of the stitches. They talked of the food and embroidery and their mutual friends, while Galinda tried to ignore the feeling of Mira’s skirts brushing against her ankles. Far too soon, the bell tolled and Galinda had to rush back to her own stall.

Whenever there was a lull in customers, she looked over at the Steadwater stall, where there was always a crowd. Young folk lined up to get their berries from Luca, while his sister and mother took their coins. No doubt Mira was cleverly making use of those lads and lasses who came by for Luca’s smiles and making sure they bought some berries too. Galinda glanced down at the handful of fresh strawberries and half a blackberry tart Mira pressed in her hand before she had to leave. She smiled to herself, took a deep breath to calm her heart, and turned to help the next customer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Mira run back twice to change the ribbon she was wearing? yes, yes she did.
> 
> Uncomplicated fluff with a focus on food is very calming to me right now, I hope it can do the same for you!  
> Please let me know what you thought! There will be one more full chapter and then a short and sweet epilogue, I think. If there's anything you'd like to see, do let me know!
> 
> I'd love it if you commented, and as always, thanks for reading!


	4. Dancing at the Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month has passed, there will be dancing at the Fair and Galinda's going to get herself a girlfriend

Galinda woke with a smile on her face. The sweet dream lingered but she didn’t mind that she had woken up, because today would be just as sweet. She rushed to dress and sang while she prepared her breakfast. She ate her food with relish, feet dancing under the table. To finish the meal, she crumbled a piece of meringue in a bowl of cream and topped it with strawberries. For the past few weeks, she had walked to the Steadwater farm frequently, always to be greeted by Mira’s warm smile and warmer embrace. Just thinking about it made Galinda blush. Mira had hugged her quickly, that first time, and said sternly that no friend of hers would ever be without fresh berries. And every time the berries tasted just as sweet as the word ‘friend’ spoken in Mira’s voice. And Galinda thought privately, with the courage of a full stomach and a shining day ahead of her, that ‘darling’ might sound even sweeter.

She sat herself down at her worktable, reluctant to work and eager to be done, and let her hands do the weaving while her mind di the dreaming. She’d ask Mira if she had permission to court her tonight. And Mira would look lovely, as she always does, and perhaps she’d be witty. She’d joke that those berries everyday rather gave her answer away. Or maybe she’d just smile a sweet smile, the kind where her eyes went soft and her cheeks dimpled. And she’d nod, silently, the way that makes her curls fall over her dark eyes. And Galinda could gently reach out, brush the curls aside and she’d— Galinda looked down at hr work. She’d made Mrs Proudfoot’ s new potholder nearly twice the size it needed to be. With a sigh, she set it aside to be redone in a different project and started anew. She scolded herself. The more mistakes she made, the longer she had to work to finish it all and then she wouldn’t have time to gather Mira’s courting gifts. The dainty little dessert was already prepared, a lovely little cake layered with cream, meringue and topped with a few of Mira’s own strawberries. But the rest of the gift still needed some work.

Galinda had finished a cricket trap and started a picknick basket by the time she felt she had worked long enough. She grabbed a cold meatpie from the larder and ran in search of her flower basket. She found it buried under a pile of boots, dusted it off and ran outside. She might not enjoy running like Mira did, but eagerness gave her wings. She reached the meadow quickly and spent quite some time picking the loveliest daisies she could find. Basket filled, she walked back home. On a whim, she also snipped off a few of the violets Sara had left behind in their little front garden. The deeper purple would look like jewels in the dark silk of Mira’s hair.

Galinda’s clever fingers made short work of weaving the brightest blooms together. Soon she had a lovely crown, which she placed carefully in the box. Fenton had carved her a pretty little round box to keep it in, so it would survive the journey. Galinda herself had carved Mira’s name in it, in letters as elegant as she could manage. It had taken a few tries, but when finished it looked lovely. Box securely closed, Galinda ran to her room to wash and dress in her party clothes.

The feast at the fair would start soon, and Galinda would pay a flowergarden to not be late.

She put on an extra petticoat, a nice white blouse and her favourite purple frock. She spent a long time carefully combing her hair, putting it up this way and that. Curls properly arranged, she stuck a few of the leftover violets in her hair, properly secured with pins. She twirled a few times, just to make sure everything would stay put while she danced. And then twirled again, just to express her happiness. She threw one last glance in the mirror, longed for a shawl of some sort to cover her shoulders, and turned back to her gifts. First the basket, the prettiest thing Galinda had ever woven. She’d been working at it these past four weeks, using all the fancy tricks and fine details at her disposal. It was a dainty little thing, the inside covered in soft, cheerful fabric, and the perfect size for the gift. Carefully, she put the box with the flowercrown on the bottom of the basket. Next to it, she put the dessert, on a place with a cup over it to keep it safe. Snuggly next to it fit the small bottle of elderberry wine Galinda made with her mother a few months ago. Galinda tied a ribbon cheerfully around the basket handle and the gift was complete.

Galinda stared at it for a while, overwhelmed by the feelings of momentousness, fingers trailing over the silky ribbon. For the past few weeks, Mira had kept her company in market days. It was a delight to have her close, always so witty and so very pretty as she smiled at Galinda. However, that did mean she had needed Luca’s help to distract his sister, just so Galinda could sneak off and buy the ribbon. She was almost sure it was one of Mira’s favourite colours. She was absolutely certain it would look like a vision woven through her hair. Cloak on her shoulders, basket on her arm and anticipation bubbling brightly in her stomach, Galinda set off towards the fair. Ordinarily she would have stopped at the games, admired the results of the baking and gardening competitions. Earlier years, she whiled away hours petting prize animals and tasting foreign treats. There was always a sense of adventure at the fair, the lovely and familiar mixed with the strange and exiting that came from folk form all over the Shire and even outside of it gathering to enjoy themselves.

But tonight, Galinda only stopped briefly to cast her ballot for best jam and prettiest rose, only bought a fried sugary treat to keep her mouth from sighing every moment she still didn’t catch sight of Mira. Galinda was late, not having had a full day for leisure, and the crowd was immense. Luckily, she could see over the heads of most of them, the few dwarves or humans who blocked her gaze rarely an obstacle. Galinda made her way through the fairground, smiling and waving at friends and neighbours, everyone’s smiles twice as bright in the light of the lanterns that were already being lit in preparation for twilight. Dusk was still a ways off, but the first course of supper wasn’t and nobody wanted the lamplighters to climb their ladders after the hearty meal and heartier ale that accompanied it Before super though, there would be dancing. Dancing that would go on the whole night through, pausing only for supper, dessert, a midnight snack and perhaps a little something or other in between. The party tent looked a marvel, hung with bright lanterns and decorated with sweet summer blossoms. Galinda let out a sigh of admiration. It all looked so enchanting. She took off her cloak and laid it over a bench at the far side of the dance floor. It was far too warm here for it, the air warm with the sun, the people and the excitement. She debated leaving her basket here too. One or two neighbours had already caught sight of it and smiled knowing smiles. Galinda had not put her basked down for a moment, or she heard her name called out.

“Galinda, over here!”

It was undoubtedly Mira. Galinda whirled around to catch sight of her and there, at the other side of the Party Tent, was Mira, standing on a bench to gaze out over the crowds. Galinda picked up her basket again and rushed to Mira’s side. She was wearing the most beautiful deep red bodice and skirts, with a neckerchief of matching embroidered flowers. Her hair, Galinda was relieved to see, was decorated with ribbons only. Galinda held out her hand to help Mira off the bench. Mira took it, jumped down and did not let go. She hugged Galinda, greeted her, made remarks about the size of the crowd and the beauty of the decorations and still she did not let go. Galinda felt dumbstruck, and warm through and through. She was sure she greeted Mira appropriately, but she could not have told anyone what she said, not even for a flowergarden.

“What have you got there?” asked Mira excitedly, waving their joined hands towards Galinda’s covered basket. Galinda blushed and looked around her. Mira nodded understandingly. “Come with me,” she said and pulled Galinda along. Away from the dancefloor, away from the crowd and into the forest. Galinda followed, relief and nerves settling down the further they got from the crowd. Mira stopped in a clearing and dropped Galinda’s hand. For a moment, they just stood looking at each other, questions and answers in both their eyes. Then Galinda took a deep breath to steady herself and held out the basket.

“Mira you are the loveliest lass I’ve ever met. You’re sharper than any knife a tenterhooks could make and prettier than any prizewinning bloom” Galinda paused, bit her lip, but bravely continued. “Your friendship means the world to me, but I was hoping you might accept this courting gift.”

Words forced out, she felt lightheaded, and beset with worry. But she needn’t be. Mira’s hands were on the basket before she could even nod or give her reply.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” she gasped and reached for the cloth. But then she caught herself and inspected the basket first. It’s so beautiful, Galinda, you made this didn’t you!” Mira looked up from the basket with sparkling eyes.

“I’ve never seen such fine work!”

Galinda bit back all denials the caution that it would not bear much strain, stopped herself from pointing out the ends imperfectly worked away, but covered by the ribbon. Instead she just tried to let her face show the joy she felt. Mira moved the cloth and sat down on a tree stump to properly inspect the contents of the basket. She exclaimed over the cake and gasped over the box, tracing the carving with her soft elegant fingers. “What is this?” she asked, with eyes wide in wonder.

“Open it, or you may never know,” Galinda smiled, finding it in herself to tease a little. Mira flashed her eyes in very unconvincing reproach and carefully opened the box.

“Lovely,” she murmured, gently touching the petals. Then, she snapped the box shut, carefully placed the box in the basket and the basket on the ground. Mira stood up and took Galinda’s hand gently in hers and pulled her closer. She stepped on the treestump, leaving her and Galinda eye to eye. Mira put her arms around Galinda’s neck and pulled her even closer.

“Galinda,” she said softly in the space between them, “you are the nicest, prettiest, sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met, and if you weren’t so wonderfully tall I would have kissed you already.”

Galinda, run through with happiness, took the only possible course of action, put her arms around Mira’s waist and kissed her sweetly.

A short moment of eternal happiness later, Mira moved away with one more lingering kiss.

“You distracted me,” Mira pouted with reddened lips, “I had a courting gift for you too.”

She reached into her pocket and drew out a small package wrapped in brown paper and tied in one of Mira’s hair ribbons. She pressed it into Galinda’s hands with a bashful smile. Galinda opened it, careful not to tear the wrapping paper. When it fell away, the paper revealed a neckerchief of fine white cotton, the kind fine ladies wore tucked into their dresses on fine spring days, and it was embroidered with a delicate border of strawberry blossoms and leaves. It was beautiful.

“I think this is the most beautiful piece of clothing I have ever owned,” Galinda said in wonder. Mira blushed, and threw her arms around Galinda to hide it. “Can I wear my flowers now?” she asked in Galinda’s hair, just to make Galinda laugh. Mira got of her stump and searched for some extra hairpins in her pockets. Carefully, Galinda arranged the flowers on Mira’s hair and pinned them down securely. “The basket is the real courting gift, she said, as she ran her hands through Mira’s curls again ,now she had an excuse, “the rest was just because I thought an empty basket looked sad.”

Mira pushed her head into the caress like a cat.

“It’s the most wonderful gift anyone ever gave me. An now we can share the food,” Mira said contently.

There wasn’t really anywhere to sit without dirtying their skirts, but Mira solved that problem admirably by placing the cloth from the basket on the treestump, sat Galinda down upon it and herself in Galinda’s lap. Galinda could have protested this, but very quickly she found she did not want to. Together, they shared the dessert and the wine, and a great deal of dessert-flavoured kisses besides.

Far too soon, they heard strains of music weaving through the trees. Mira jumped up, and pulled Galinda up after her. “The players are striking up! We’ll miss the dancing!” Mira said animatedly, picking up her basket and running ahead. “Do hurry!” she exclaimed when Galinda took too long gazing at the way her excitement made her curls bounce her instead of making haste. 

“I’ve wanted to dance with you for an age and I won’t miss a minute of it!” She called out over her shoulder.

Galinda could hardly argue with that incredibly compelling argument, much as she would have liked to sit there a moment long, with Mira warm and happy in her lap. She herself had harboured many a daydream of dancing with Mira, hands on her soft waist and skirts brushing against each other as they swayed. Quickly, she followed Mira, walking fast enough that soon Mira had to trot to keep up. But Mira didn’t mind, just linked her arm with Galinda’s and skipped by her side, swinging her basket merrily.

When they arrived back at the Party Tent, couples were already whirling around the floor. It was but the work of a moment to hide their gifts under Galinda’s cloak and let the dance whirl them away too. Mira was a fantastic dancer, light on her feet and laughing at every turn. They danced together, holding each other close, until the music changed and a rowdance was called. Then they danced beside neighbours and friends, but their eyes kept finding each other.

When they paused for supper, Galinda and Mira did their duty as protectors and sat on either side of Luca to discourage any who tried to approach him with flowers or sweet treats. And there were a fair few, with eyes hopeful enough that Galinda decided that averting that kind of scene was worth not having Mira beside her. If Luca noticed, busy as he was making friends with the whole table, he did not say. But he did smile broadly when he saw the flowers in Mira’s hair and his sister’s embroidery gracing Galinda’s neck. She had put it on the moment it grew cool enough to wear it and gotten many admiring compliments, from all around her.

“You knew didn’t you—” Galinda asked of Luca in a whisper, as soon as the thought occurred to her, “When I asked you to distract her, to buy those ribbons. You knew she was preparing a gift for me too, didn’t you?”

Luca winked at her and cut himself another piece of cake.

“Course I did, Miss Galinda. I’d be a fool to miss the way she cursed and fretted over it,” he said, not half as softly and with a mischievous smile.

“If you’re going to be spreading falsehoods, Luca Steadwater,”said Mira reproachingly from his other side, “Galinda and I shall leave you here alone.”

She stood up from the bench, took up Galinda’s hand to press a kiss on it and pulled her along, back to the dancefloor. Luca laughed at her, surrounded by friends on all sides and told them something Galinda didn’t catch in the noise of the crowd but which made Mira narrow her eyes and hide a blush.

Galinda turned to Mira, who looked enchanting in the lamplight with violets and daisies crowning her hair. Galinda stepped closer, took Mira in her arms and waltzed her away.

With Mira in her arms and the crowd blurring from the speed of their cheerful dance, Galinda felt her happiness bubble over. She could dance the night away and still have happiness quickening her feet and lighting up her heart. And when she looked into Mira’s sparkling eyes, she knew Mira felt exactly the same.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I thought there were gonna be 5 chapters, but it turns out the last one was just very long. I'm marking this complete for now, but I may come back at some point and add an epilogue or stray scenes. I've got some ideas for Galinda cooking for Mira, but I think for now this is it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I needed some uncomplicated happy romance without conflict and I thought some of you must feel that need too.  
> So here it is, pretty girls who like eachother and the nice brother laughing at their mooneyes.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought. Were you shocked this entire chapter wasn't dancing? Did you like the gifts? Want to tell me every thought you had while reading this?  
> Please do and as always, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a sapphic romance and decided the Shire was the perfect setting for something soft and pastoral and containing a whole lot of cooking and sunshine.
> 
> This will probably be a two parter, but might be extended if I have enough fun writing it. There will at least be strawberry eating, discussion of embroidery, explanation of why Mira needs to protect her ace brother from his own charm and hair braiding. And dancing of course, since it's me...
> 
> If you have ideas of what else should be in a hobbit romance, do let me know. I'd love to know what you thought, since this is a very new area for me. Tell me what you liked!
> 
> Edit: I completely forgot to say that Galinda's last name is a tribute to the delightful Babblebrooks series of ASMR Videos by Goodnight Moon. They're beautiful, full of fantasy and have no conflict and a lot of focus on food, so I thought it was the perfect name.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


End file.
